


A Secret  for a Secret

by GayNidoKing



Series: ZevWarden Week 2020 [4]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Blind Character, Discussions of death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Other, mention of infant death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25073809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayNidoKing/pseuds/GayNidoKing
Summary: It's been months since Laz had last pulled that card on him, which had dominated their early relationship. It's been so long they no longer need the transaction. But they each have one more secret to share, and it only seems right to  have one more trade.
Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Surana, Zevran Arainai/Warden
Series: ZevWarden Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813810
Kudos: 2
Collections: ZevWarden Week 2020





	A Secret  for a Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ZevWarden Week, Day 4: Candlelight Whispers, Opening Up. Also a little bit of Pillow Talk, in the beginning.
> 
> As a warning, this one gets a bit dark. Not only with Zevran's backstory, but also with Laz's. Heed the tags.

“I’m...still not used to this,” she admitted slowly.

“I’m not either, but I suspect we are talking about two different things.” Zevran rolled over onto his back and stretched. “You go first.”

“Damn,” she laughed. She rolled onto her stomach and lifted herself up onto her elbows. She turned her face towards him. “Why me?”

“You brought it up, my dear Warden,” he reminded her.

She rested her chin down on her folded arms. “Okay, but you can’t make fun of me.”

“I swear it.” His solemn tone was mostly forced, but he would never do anything to hurt her.

“Well...I’m not used to sex being for...fun, I guess?” She tilted her head to the side. “Fun’s not the right word,” she corrected herself before he let his pride get wounded. “The word I’m looking for is pleasure, I think. That probably doesn’t make any sense.”

It made perfect sense. In a way, he could relate. How often had he used sex as a means to an end, or even just as--

“For me, it was always just a distraction. A way to relieve stress, or not to think about what was happening around me.” She frowned at the wall of the tent. “I knew that it was fun for other people, but it never occurred to me that I would ever be one of them.”

“That certainly explains some things.” He hadn’t intended it to be rude, but as it came out, he realized she was probably going to take it that way.

Her wounded expression confirmed his fear.

“That’s hardly my fault!” she protested, though there was little true anger behind her words. Mostly hurt, mostly defensiveness. “It’s not like I had any time to explore.”

“That is not what I meant,” he corrected, leaning over to smooth the hurt with a kiss on her shoulder. “I was referring more to your...ahem, approach.”

How many times did he have to tell her to slow down, to actually  _ enjoy _ what was happening? She was not inexperienced when it came to sex, but the finer points of pleasure escaped her. Their first few times he’d thought she was going to have a panic attack halfway through, half her attention on him and half on the ghosts of Templars she was sure were going to find her.

She let out a huff. “If you took too long, the Templars were bound to find you,” she said plainly, as if that wasn’t one of the more horrifying things she’d admitted to him. “and...well, they’d  _ find  _ you. That kind of thing wasn’t allowed. You’d get solitary or worse, if they caught you with the same person twice.”

“Yes, so you’ve told me.” He spoke carefully. As he always was when this conversation arose, Zevran was torn between the desire to pry as she had always pried, and the desire to keep her face free from pain and worry.

Her hesitance to open up to him could be forgiven. He could fairly accurately guess what had happened to anyone else she might have cared about.

“What about you?” she said.

“Oh, me?” His feigned innocence brought a smile to her face, and her smile brought warmth to his chest. “I was referring to the locale. It’s been months, but I still must say I prefer a bed to a tent.”

She chuckled. “I can’t blame you for that.” She stretched her neck a few times. “Unfortunately, I think I’m getting used to. My aches have aches, at this point.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. He rested his hand on the back of her knee, thumbing at an old scar. She hummed to herself, an Antivan lullaby he recognized.

“Hey, Zev.”

“Yes?”

“Do you remember what we used to do, back when we first started talking?”

“Ah, you mean you interrogating me ceaselessly about my life and heart? How could I forget?” He was teasing, a bit nervous by how serious her tone had become. “You were a voracious little thing...and still are.” He pinched her knee to punctuate the joke.

She laughed along, but quickly got back to the point.

“That wasn’t what I did,” she protested lightly. She turned her face to him. “It was mutual, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” he confirmed. “I remember. A clever way to pry me open, though you could have done  _ that  _ by simply asking.” Seeing the look on her face, he stopped joking. “‘A secret for a secret’ is what you’re referring to, correct?”

It had been months since they’d had such a conversation. Not that they didn’t still have their secrets, but they didn’t need to make them so transactional anymore. He suspected the “game” was something of a defense mechanism for her. She gave as much as she got, though she usually walked away with a bit more. A way to keep herself on top, he suspected, to make sure she was never at the mercy of someone who would use her against herself.

“Yeah.”

“How long it’s been, since you’ve trapped me with that little deal.” He was joking. He had only minded the conversations at first, until he realized it was a truly earnest attempt to befriend him. For all her confidence in other areas, Laz was obviously uncertain in social situations. “What’s the occasion?”

“I have one more secret. And you do too.” She rolled over and sat up, pulling one knee to her chest. “And I’m not saying that to be nosy, or to be cruel. I...want to know, and I want you to know.”

He felt a chill go through him. He knew what she was referring to, at least in regards to him.

She had asked about his last mission only one time, but he knew it had lingered on her mind. He didn’t blame her. She had likely put some of the pieces together.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she said softly. She really meant it. She was many things, but nosy wasn’t one of them. If he put his foot down one more time and told her that he wasn’t comfortable sharing this with her, she would not ask him again. She might not even take it personally, depending on how carefully he chose his words.

But...that wasn’t what he wanted, or what he needed.

“No...I suppose it is time.” He sat up with her, crossing his legs. She scooted a bit away, giving him space.

She waited. She wasn’t impatiently waiting, just...waiting. He could read her well enough to know that. She was just as nervous as he was, just as faltering. That gave him the last bit of strength required to bare his soul one last time.

“There is a reason I accepted the mission here, far away from home,” he started. “I had no thoughts that I might leave the Crows. Meeting you, after all, was an accident. My last mission before you...did not end well.”

“I don’t imagine it did,” she said softly. “What happened?”

He didn’t directly answer. Even as much as he trusted her, as much as he knew she wouldn’t despise him, the words were hard to say. He paved the way to the story like an Antivan road: winding and meandering and well decorated.

“You must realize, until that day, I was cocky and arrogant,” he began. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to defend himself. Perhaps to convince her that he would not make the same mistakes again. Perhaps to convince himself that his mistakes weren’t as bad as he knew they were. “I was the best Crow in Antiva, or so I believed, and I bragged of my conquests often...both as an assassin and a lover.”

She snorted softly. “Oh, I would love to see you _ more _ cocky.” It was spoken half to herself, and he noted that for later.

“They got sick of me. I jumped at the chance, as you can imagine, for a difficult mark, as surprised as I was to get the offer.”

She didn’t interrupt as he described the mission, and Rinna. He might have gotten a bit carried away in his descriptions, but when he looked up, he saw a sad smile on Laz’s face. There was no trace of jealousy, just sorrow. She knew how this story ended, even if he hadn’t told her yet.

“You fell in love with her.” She stated it like a fact, not a question. She had gotten just as good at reading him as he was at reading her, it seemed.

“Rinna was special,” he admitted. “My heart was closed, or so I thought. She touched something within me...it frightened me.” He could still remember how it had felt when Rinna had looked at him, or had laughed at his jokes. “It was so easy.”

“I understand,” Laz said. “Some people are so easy to love.”

For a second, neither of them moved or spoke. Then, slowly, she extended one hand, a bit too far to the left. He reached out and took it, pulled it close to his chest. Her hands were so cold, but they fit in his like they were made for each other.

He kept talking, in far less detail now. It was easier that way. He could have described the mission itself, the way he usually did when she asked, but he knew that would only be avoiding the point. The mission wasn’t the important part.

Laz let him speak without interrupting. The warmth of her body kept him grounded, kept his mind from traveling too far back to reliving those moments.

Describing Rinna’s last moments, and his own flippant comments, felt like ripping open a barely healed wound. Laz held his hand tightly, and didn’t speak. He was so used to her prompting, and it felt strange to have to encourage himself to continue talking. The words of his own worthlessness were the easiest to speak, and the ones that finally spurred her to speak up again.

He wasn’t sure which hurt more: saying that he meant nothing, or that Rinna didn’t. For that short period of time they’d been together, Rinna had meant  _ everything _ .

“Zev...I’m so sorry.” Laz scooted closer and rested her head on his shoulder. Even now, the gesture was a little awkward, as if she was prepared to jump apart from him at any second. “I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t know how to respond. He was selfishly glad she couldn’t see the tears welling up in his eyes, though he couldn’t hide the way his voice thickened.

“It is quite alright,” he lied.

“No. It isn’t.”

No. It wasn’t.

And now, the final part of his confession, the part he was sure she didn’t need to be told. He wasn’t sure if he needed to say it, or even wanted to, but he felt compelled.

“You asked me once why I wanted to leave the Crows.” He ran his thumb over her finger. “In truth, what I wanted was to die. What better way than to throw myself at one of the fabled Grey Wardens?”

She sucked in a hard breath, and tugged at his hand. He considered denying her, but too much of him needed what she was offering. He moved closer and let her rest against him. He sat sideways against her chest, her legs draped around his waist in a possessive hold.

It felt nice, to be so coveted.

He had cried over Rinna before, but always alone. This was different. Laz held him, offering only constant reassurances that she was there, that she would always be there. Her intent, he’d realized long ago, had always been to lessen his load and take the weight off of his heart. Little by little, she was succeeding.

She had never told him that she loved him, but Zevran had never once doubted that she did.

“I’m glad I was your chosen suicide,” she said. “If that makes sense.”

It did. He didn’t have the breath to say it, but he was glad as well.

She squeezed him, and he let his entire world shrink down to her arms around him, her heart beating next to his, the soft hum of her voice against his temple.

It felt like hours before he took a deep, calm breath.

“I believe, my love...that it is your turn.”

She huffed. “So it is.” She shifted her weight. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” he said, and surprised himself by meaning it. The pain hadn’t eased, but there was no cure like a distraction. He didn’t feel quite up to his usual method, so this was the next best thing. “A secret for a secret is our deal, my love.”

“Yeah.” She squeezed him once. She was quiet for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “Do you remember...when Alistair and I took that detour, back in Redcliffe?”

“Yes. Quite secretive, weren’t you?” That was before they’d gotten together, but he’d felt a bit envious of the other Warden for the obvious trust Laz had in him.

“Well, we were...oh, never mind, that’s a bad place to start.” She let out a sharp little laugh, and leaned back.

He had never seen her this... _ nervous _ before. Even when she was at her most vulnerable, there was always a wall up, that arrogance she wrapped around herself like armor. It was gone now, and he could see her fear in her shaking hand and the way she was chewing at the inside of her mouth.

“I had someone too. In the Tower.”

That wasn’t a surprise. She had at the very least had sex before him, and she’d hinted at someone in her past.

“Their name was Erik.” Like him, she described the man with a detached air, as if too many details was too much pain. “They were a human. A  _ noble _ , even.” She wrinkled her nose, laughing at herself. “I don’t know if what we had was love. It started as...a rivalry. We were both the best and brightest, both Irving’s favorites. They infuriated me, and I would purposefully annoy them.”

“Ah, a tale as old as time.” He didn’t shy away from quipping at her. She needed that, sometimes, to keep herself from drowning in her thoughts. The grateful look she shot him confirmed that he was right.

“Indeed.” She tapped her knee anxiously. “Erik never treated me like I was some fragile, broken thing. Probably because I knocked them on their ass in practice so many times.” She was fidgeting, moving her hands and legs here and there in search of a comfortable position. “Like I’ve said before...the sex was just a distraction. It was a way to relieve the stress, and it was safest to do it with someone I trusted.”

“Lovers, but not  _ lovers _ ?” he suggested.

“Something like that,” she agreed. “I don’t know if I loved them. I never really thought about it. In the end...it didn’t really matter.”

Neither of their stories had happy endings, it seemed.

“We were as careful as we could be, and we never got caught. But…” She tried to laugh, but it died in her throat. “But I…”

Her next words were not remotely what he expected.

“I got pregnant.”

He didn’t have anything to say. Shock made his chest tight. He didn’t have to know the intricacies of how the Circle worked to put two and two together. He knew that Laz didn’t have a child now.

“You have to understand,” she started, defending herself just as he had done, “I was scared. I knew what they would do to me if I didn’t cooperate, so…” She trailed off. Her tone was raw, more than he’d ever heard it before. She was shaking against him, hand gripping his so tightly her knuckles were pale. “They asked me who the father was and I...I didn’t want…”

“You did what you had to do to survive.” It was both a question and a reassurance.

She took a shaky breath. “Yes.” She was trying to control her face, but he could see the guilt eating at her. “I didn’t even hesitate. They asked me who the father was, and I just...I just  _ told _ them.” Her voice dropped. “Erik was gone the next day. Irving told me that they just got moved to a different Circle but…”

“You can never be sure.” He ventured a guess. She’d told him before, that Irving had lied to her in the hopes of keeping her quiet. He’d seen it himself, in the aftermath of the abomination problem at the Circle.

“They could be dead, for all I know. Or Tranquil, or…maybe they really were just sent away.” She trailed off. “Even if they were, I know the Chantry. Erik  _ was _ punished.  _ I  _ was punished.”

She shivered violently, and Zevran was no longer certain that all of her scars had come from darkspawn. He shoved away the hot anger that rose up at that thought. It did them no good now.

She fell silent again, absorbed in her own thoughts.

“What does that have to do with Alistair?” Unlike him, Laz didn’t readily offer information without prodding, but she was always willing to let him prod her.

“You know what happens to children born to mages,” she started.

He had a pretty good idea, even if no one had ever told him. The adventure they’d had with Wynne was confirmation enough of his suspicions.

He gently maneuvered their bodies so that he was holding her. She clung to him immediately, burying her face in his neck. The second her face was out of his sight, he felt the tears begin to fall on his skin.

“They took my son the day he was born.” Her voice dropped again, took that cold, defensive tone when she was about to admit something she regretted. “I...made arrangements with the Templar. I’d heard that, sometimes, elven babies were…”

He sucked in a breath. “You don’t have to say it.” Death was something he was used to, but...there were some things even he didn’t want to hear.

She shot him a grateful look. “I didn’t know if that was true, but...I made arrangements. Ensured my son would live. Ensured he would be sent somewhere safe. Do you remember Jowan? The mage from Redcliffe?”

“You knew him once, yes?” An understatement, and they both knew it. But Zevran played dumb for the sake of making this confession easier.

“Yes. He was my best friend, back in the Circle.” She took a deep breath, obviously trying to shove away the tears, and failing. “He escaped, and he...he didn’t tell me, not until after we rescued him, but while he was running, he was also looking for my son. He said he tracked him as far as the Redcliffe alienage.”

“That is where you and Alistair went.” That explained quite a few things, especially her behavior upon their return.

She nodded. “He wasn’t there. But they told me...they told me he  _ had _ been there. The alienage evacuated once the monsters started coming from the castle. I found the name of the woman who ran the orphanage, and I found out where they went. We haven’t had time, but...”

“You’re still looking for him.”

She nodded. “I...I didn’t tell you because...I don’t know.” She pulled away and looked at his face. Her blind eyes didn’t focus on him, but he felt her scrutiny. Her tears had cut shining paths down her dark cheeks, and had left burning pools in his collarbone. “I...I just started to think. You said once you thought you might find your place here...with me. And I thought...maybe I could find what I wanted too.”

“Your son,” he said, throat dry.

“Not just my son. I thought...you and I, together,  _ and  _ him.” Her grip on his arms tightened. “But I don’t know if that’s what you want.”

Zevran didn’t have to lie. “I would not be opposed to such a thing.” He reached up and carefully brushed the tears off her cheeks. “I had never thought of myself as a family man, but you have opened my eyes to many things.”

She smiled and leaned into his touch. “I don’t want...I just want us to have more,” she admitted. “You’ve had so much...pain. So much has been taken from you. From us.”

“My life is not all darkness,” he said gently, rubbing again at her cheeks. “Not anymore, at least.”

“I don’t just want that,” she admitted. “I want there to be  _ light _ . I don’t just want to not be sad.” She leaned back in, and almost missed placing a kiss on his jaw. “I want us to be happy.”

“We will be,” he said, and in this moment he believed it. “We will be.”

They didn’t go to sleep for a long while. Zevran insisted they lay down, but they talked late into the night. It was mostly him talking, more about Rinna and Taliesen and the despair that had driven him towards the blade. Together, they picked up the pieces of their stories and cobbled them together into something resembling a happy future.

The morning came and they lived on, together for now and always.

**Author's Note:**

> Laz, exchanging traumatic experiences like Pokemon cards: Is this friendship?
> 
> This scene might find its way into my main Dragon Age project, SCB. Practice for the future, I guess!


End file.
